Revelations
by Kagedtiger
Summary: Jack discovers that Doug may not be as straight as everyone thought. ((slash)) ((Jack x Doug)) A story about how Jack and Doug got together.
1. Chapter 1: A Day in Boston

Revelations  
Chapter 1  
A Day in Boston

**Notes/Disclaimer: Dawson's Creek does not belong to me. It belongs to... the WB, I think. Anyway. This is un-beta'd, so expect that there might be a few mistakes. Please ask before archiving. Enjoy. **  
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It wasn't really a club, per se. More like a bar, really. Jack had promised himself that he wouldn't go into another club after what had happened to his sister at that rave so long ago. But bars were another matter. So what if the atmosphere was vaguely club-ish? Even though there was music, there wasn't any dancing, and that made it not a club in Jack's book.

This bar had been one of his favorites in Boston for a while now. He was too busy with his new job to come up much anymore, but every once in a while it was nice to get away, to go somewhere where he could be himself.

He sat at the polished, almost diner-like chrome bar counter and looked semi-curiously around the room at the patrons sitting at the various tables and booths.

It was a really low-key kind of place, which was what Jack liked about it so much. The lighting was dim, and the ambient music occasionally strayed towards techno, but it was comfortable. Jack sipped his beer. His eyes fell on two men at a table near the wall, their heads bent close in conversation. One man said something that made the other break into laughter. Jack couldn't help the faint whisper of jealousy that snaked its way through him.

It wasn't really his fault that he had been celibate for nearly a year now. Moving back to Capeside had put a bit of a damper on his love life, to say the least. He hadn't expected much when he moved back, had hoped for nothing more than no longer being the _only_ gay person in Capeside. Fat chance, of course. Some things never changed.

There had been a few opportunities for a sexual encounter when he periodically returned to Boston. Not taking those was his fault, he supposed. It was just... well... something was different now. He felt somehow less inclined to take a path that would lead to another one-night stand. He had had enough of those for a while and something inside him made him turn down the flirtatious glances, holding out for something with at least the semblance of permanence. Or not even permanence. Just a little endurance would be nice. Just someone he could actually date, rather than just sleep with. It wasn't the sex he missed so much as the romance.

Jack turned his attention back to the two men as they began to stand up, pulling on the jackets that they had draped over the backs of their chairs. They began to walk away, moving close together. Out of a mild sort of curiosity, Jack checked to see if they were holding hands, but the angle was wrong and he couldn't tell.

As they moved out of his field of vision, Jack's eyes fell on the booth behind them, which they had been blocking, and to his surprise, saw a familiar face.

_Doug?_

What was Doug doing in Boston? More importantly, what was he doing in a _gay bar_ in Boston?

But then Jack's eyes managed to pick out the dim figure sitting across from Doug in the booth, and he realized that Doug was here for the same reason as everyone else.

_But that's impossible,_ he thought. _Doug's not gay._

Well, maybe there was another explanation. Jack strained to get a closer look at Doug's companion. The young man was young indeed; he couldn't possibly be older than college age. Jack wouldn't have been surprised if he was a highschool kid, except that Doug would never ever be with someone who was underaged.

Except that he hadn't ever expected Doug to be here in the first place.

But, okay, so maybe they weren't dating. Maybe Doug had met this kid, and the kid had some kind of problem or something. Doug wanted to help him out, and said they should talk, and the kid took him somewhere that he knew well, somewhere where he was comfortable.

That theory held together for all of thirty seconds, until Doug leaned forward over the table and kissed the young man. Jack's eyebrows rose. Impossible. The unflappable Sheriff Doug Witter was gay? Now that was a revelation.

Doug and the young man rose, Doug helping the kid with his jacket in a very gallant, Prince Charming sort of way. Then, with Jack's eyes widening at every turn, he put his arm around the kid and led him out of the bar.

Wow. Jack turned back to the bar. Incredible. What the hell? How hadn't he noticed this before? Surely he wasn't so out of touch with the gay world that he'd gotten to the point where this sort of thing would slip past him? Or maybe years of Pacey making jokes about it, pretending that Doug was gay, had blinded him to the truth.

It was definitely something to think about. Jack motioned to get the bartender's attention and ordered another drink.

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	2. Chapter 2: Drinks

Revelations  
Chapter 2  
Drinks

Thoughts about Doug weighed heavily on him for the rest of the day, and by the time he was sober enough to drive home, he was close to becoming obsessed. It was late evening, Saturday evening, and he knew that Doug would most likely be home. It was a stupid impulse, he knew, to go over there, but he'd done worse. And he knew that his curiosity wouldn't stop bothering him until he'd seen Doug. No way would he be able to sleep tonight if he didn't go over there and say something.

His mind made up, Jack turned his car in the direction of Doug's apartment.

It was later than was perhaps polite when he got there, but Doug buzzed him in anyway. Since Jack had returned to Capeside, he and Doug had been hanging out a lot, usually in the company of Pacey. They even had a weekly card game on Wednesday nights, though oftentimes one of the three of them couldn't make it due to tests to grade, work on the restaurant, or police emergencies. But coming over, even this late, just to hang out was not unheard of.

Jack felt unaccountably nervous as he mounted the stairs up to Doug's apartment. It was silly, he knew. There was no reason to suspect that Doug would be unreasonable about Jack's discovery. But it would still probably be tense. And Jack hated tense.

He knocked on the door lightly, and it was opened by a relaxed-looking Doug, with open button-down shirt and rolled-up pants cuffs. He wasn't wearing an undershirt, and Jack got quite the eyeful of well-muscled chest. He'd noticed Doug's impressive cop physique before, of course, but before, Doug had never been a possibility. Now, knowing what he knew, the sight of Doug's bare chest made his heart beat a little faster.

He cleared his throat. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," said Doug amiably. "What brings you around? Want some tea or something? I was just heating up the water."

Jack walked into the apartment and sat down in a large, comfy blue easychair in the living room, watching Doug as he padded around the kitchenette, his back to Jack. Wanting to ease into the subject, but having really no clue how to do so, Jack said the first thing that came to mind.

"Isn't he a little young for you?" he asked.

"Huh?" Doug gave Jack an amused, curious look over his shoulder. "What are you talking about?"

Damn! Jack had never noticed what a good liar Doug was. He hadn't even flinched. He looked perfectly innocent, like he really had no idea what Jack was referring to. So much so, in fact, that for an instant Jack wondered if he had been mistaken, if maybe it had been someone else in the bar. The lighting had been dim, maybe it could have been someone else? ...But no. No. He was sure it had been Doug. Jeeze. No wonder he had managed to keep it secret for so long.

Jack sighed. "I saw you in Boston today. At the bar. I was there. I saw you kiss that kid. Cat's out of the bag."

Doug paused, but did not turn around. There was a long silence.

Finally, Doug took the teacup he had taken out of the cupboard and carefully put it back. Instead, he reached up to a higher shelf and took out two shot glasses. He opened another cabinet door down by his shins and removed a large bottle of tequila. Taking the three glass objects, he returned to the living room and sat down on the sofa across from Jack, placing his burden on the coffee table between them.

"I think this is called for," he muttered, pouring two shots and passing one to Jack. He knocked his back quickly and poured a second. "So... you saw."

Jack nodded, accepting the shot that was offered him. "Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell me? I would have understood."

Doug sighed, and the sound was more tired and lonely than anything Jack had ever heard. "I know you would have," he said. "But I can't tell anyone. I just can't. I have my job to think of, and the community. And I'm just not... not ready to let the world know about me yet. It's okay in Boston, where I'm relatively anonymous. But Capeside? Well hell, you know better than me. You were the one who got outed here." He paused a moment, then looked at Jack seriously. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

Jack snorted. "Of course not. As you said, I'm the one who knows what it's like to be outed, right? I'll keep your secret 'til you're ready to out with it yourself. But..." Jack paused, watching Doug carefully. "Isn't it lonely for you? Keeping a secret like that?"

Doug shrugged, but Jack could see how it weighed on him. "I have Tom," he said.

"Who?"

"That guy I was with," Doug explained. "His name's Tom."

"How old is he anyway?" Jack asked.

Doug took another shot of the tequila before he answered. "Twenty-one," he said eventually. "He's mature for his age, though. And he's been out since he was, like, fourteen. It's kind of awe-inspiring."

"Hm," said Jack non-commitally. Doug wasn't looking at him. He was staring at the floor, one hand holding his shot glass, the other supporting his head. He looked tired.

Not quite sure what compelled him to do so, Jack got out of the easy chair and walked to Doug's side, sitting down on the sofa next to him. He put a hand on Doug's shoulder. "It's okay, you know. It's not easy to come out. I've been told it's harder the longer you've been in the closet, too."

Doug lifted his head and placed the hand that had been supporting it over Jack's own. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Jack poured him another shot.

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	3. Chapter 3: Waking Up

Revelations  
Chapter 3  
Waking Up

The first thing Jack noticed when he woke up the next morning was that the someone had turned up the wattage of the sun. The bright rays pierced his skull and stabbed into one of the worst hangovers he'd ever had - and he'd had a fair few. He groaned and tried to bury his head under a pillow.

It took a few seconds for the strangeness of this situation to sink in. The window in his bedroom didn't face east, so there was no logical reason why the morning sun should wake him. Unless it was already afternoon, in which case he'd been sleeping a lot longer than he thought.

Cautiously, Jack raised his head enough to look around, and felt a sudden sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

This wasn't his bedroom.

He was sprawled on what he guessed was Doug's bed. He guessed this for two reasons - one, he vaguely remembered it from the few times he had had reason to go in there when he was over at Doug's house. Two, Doug was sprawled over the other side.

"Shit," Jack muttered. "Shit shit shitshitshit."

Jack closed his eyes and tried to reconstruct the events of the previous evening. Okay. Focus. He had come over to Doug's house to ask him about that meeting at the gay bar. He remembered that much. They had started drinking, because it had been a tense situation. Then...

A fragment of memory floated into Jack's mind, of Doug leaning towards him, his shirt hanging open around his beautiful, muscled chest. His mind had felt warm and fuzzy and pleasant, so he hadn't stopped himself from reaching in, running his hands along Doug's sides-

_Oh God,_ Jack thought, _did I seduce Doug?_

He nearly panicked, but another memory calmed him. Earlier than that - he was sure it was earlier, had to be - Doug had laid his head down on Jack's shoulder, turned his face to Jack, reached over to grasp the back of Jack's head and pull them together for a kiss. They had been drunk enough that it seemed natural at the time.

But still - Doug! Jack looked over at him, feeling the panic welling again. This was not a place he had expected to find himself. Doug was a friend, and someone he had never even considered as a possible lover. Hell, Doug was barely a friend more than he was simply Pacey's brother! ...But that wasn't true. That was defensive thinking. It was true that Jack and Doug had been hanging out on their own a lot, especially when Pacey was busy with the restaurant. And it was true that Jack had felt that they had a real connection...

But not this! Never in a million years- Jack closed his eyes as his headache began to throb painfully behind his eyes. Well, first things first.

He rolled out of bed - literally rolled, falling with a thump to the floor - and crawled, slumped, and shuffled his way over to the bathroom, where at least there was no direct sunlight. He fumbled for the mirror above the sink, pulling it back to reveal a medicine cabinet, and nearly crying in relief when his fumbling fingers finally found a bottle marked "aspirin."

He popped two of the pills into his mouth and took a swallow of water out of his cupped hand. He was about to put the bottle back when he remembered Doug. Doug would probably have it even worse than him; Jack was pretty sure that the Sheriff was not as used to alcohol as Jack was.

Groping around the sink he found a small glass, which Doug must have used for brushing his teeth, and filled it with water. Taking the pill bottle in his other hand, he took them both out into the bedroom, setting them on the bedside table.

The light was still painfully bright, and he pulled the blinds down with a fast, plastic "sherk" noise. The light dimmed just enough to take the edge off the headache.

The sound of the blinds woke Doug, who moaned against his pillow and grumbled something unintelligible into it. There was a pause, then a snort from the bed as Doug appeared to jolt into consciousness, raising his head and peering around the room blearily. Then he groaned again as the hangover seemed to hit him, and squeezed his eyes shut.

"There's stuff on the table," Jack said, leaning against the wall next to the window to avoid having to look at the source of the light.

"Mrmph," said Doug, groping until his hand encountered the glass and bottle. He slid over to the table and helped himself to the pills, taking a quick, efficient swallow of water to wash them down. He muttered something that sound vaguely like thanks and put his head back down on the bed.

It was about ten seconds before he shot bolt upright and stared at Jack, his eyes wide open.

Jack could see the memories beginning to leak into Doug's brain as it dawned on him exactly what they had done the previous night.

"Er... so... did we...?" he asked uncertainly.

Jack nodded miserably. "Yeah, I'm afraid we may have."

"Shit," said Doug.

"Uh-huh," Jack agreed.

"So... so..." Doug groped for words. "This was..."

"A mistake," Jack finished, deciding that it was best to get this settled right away. "This never should have happened. We were drunk, we lost control. It happens, but it shouldn't have and it was a mistake."

"Yeah. Yeah." Doug was nodding now, looking as though he was operating on auto-pilot while his brain retreated into hiding. "Of course. Obviously. I mean, there's no way."

Jack felt himself nodding in agreement. "Exactly. We just couldn't."

"Obviously," said Doug. "I mean, you know, I'm..."

"Still in the closet," finished Jack.

Doug frowned. "I was going to say 'seeing someone,' but that too."

"Right," said Jack, feeling embarrassed. "And you know, so, this was just one of those things."

"One of those things that happens," Doug echoed.

"Right."

Jack stared at the floor for a minute, feeling silly, before he made a move to get dressed, picking up his clothes out of the various garments strewn about the room. He put on as much as he could find; his shirt was nowhere to be seen.

He paused at the door, unsure of what to say. "So, um, I guess I should..."

"Yeah," said Doug, "probably."

"I'll just, uh, get going then. Hey, uh, call me." He paused, his face reddening. "I mean, not, you know, not in a second date kind of way - not that this was a first date or anything, I mean! But, you know, to see if we're playing cards this week still. Not that we wouldn't, for some reason. I mean for this. I mean, you know, in case we can't because of some other, completely different reason. That's unrelated. Because you know, sometimes one of us can't, and-" He stopped himself. "Uh, I'm gonna go now, before my IQ drops into negative numbers."

Doug nodded dumbly, and Jack slid out the door, mentally cursing himself.

He found his shirt in the living room.

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	4. Chapter 4: Awkwardness

Revelations  
Chapter 4  
Awkwardness

Pacey thought he might be going crazy.

Doug and Jack had been acting ridiculously skittish for over a week now. Without a word from either of them, they had both simply stopped showing up to the weekly card game, and any time they were in the same room they would clam up and fidget awkwardly, neither one of them ever looking at the other.

It was driving Pacey to distraction.

It was worse because he knew that something was definitely wrong. Whenever he ran into Jack alone, his friend always seemed really depressed. Doug was secretive and kind of aloof, more like he used to be than he had been lately, but still relatively normal when he wasn't around Jack. But Jack was really messed up. He had been coming by the restaurant more and more often lately, sitting slumped morosely at the bar and staring off into space.

Finally, Pacey decided that he just couldn't take it any more.

He picked up a dingy glass and a washcloth and began to polish the surface, doing his best to look as bar-tender-y as possible. Trying to be nonchalant, he sidled up to Jack, who was nursing a beer and staring sightlessly at the countertop.

"So," said Pacey, "boy trouble?"

Jack looked up, starting. "W-what?"

_Ah-ha,_ thought Pacey. "Something's wrong, Jack. You've been acting weird for a while now. What's up?"

"Oh." Jack went back to staring at the polished wood surface of the bar. "It's nothing." He gave a deep, melancholy sigh that Pacey was quite sure was definitely _not_ nothing.

"Listen McPhee," he said in a lecturing tone. "I am your friend. And if I don't get it out of you, then I'm going to have to beat it out of Doug. But I'm guessing that since you're obviously more depressed than he is, whatever it is is your problem."

Jack looked up again, but stared past Pacey to the rows of liquor bottles, not really looking at anything. "Just because he doesn't seem depressed doesn't mean he isn't," he said softly. "Doug is amazingly good at hiding things."

Pacey blinked at this little revelation. Okay then. So something _was_ up. "Okay. So what does this have to do with my brother?"

Jack folded his arms on top of the bar and lay his head down on them. "Can't tell you," he said, his voice muffled. "I promised Doug I wouldn't."

Pacey's eyebrows shot up. This was getting juicier by the second. "Come on, Jack. You'd probably be much better at explaining it than Doug would." Jack looked like he really needed someone to talk to, and Pacey suspected that he was just waiting for a sympathetic listener to unburden himself to.

But to his surprise, Jack refused, shaking his head.

"If you want the story, you'll have to get it from him. It's not my place to tell you."

Pacey frowned. "Well, I will. And I must say, I'm disappointed in you, Jack. I thought you trusted me more than this."

He had said this last half-jokingly, but when Jack looked up, his glare was full of anger.

"Shut it, Pacey," he said, standing up. "I'm going home."

Pacey watched helplessly as Jack stormed out of the bar. _Well, that didn't exactly go as planned,_ he thought.

That left only one option: Doug. Pacey resolved to see him as soon as possible.

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	5. Chapter 5: Problems, Perhaps Unrelated

Revelations  
Chapter 5  
Problems, Perhaps Unrelated

Jack was in bad shape. He'd driven home the morning after waking up in Doug's bed and had gotten as far as the living room before collapsing into a heap on the floor and sobbing. The worst part was, he didn't even know why he felt like this. He should've been happy with the ways things had worked out with Doug; Doug wasn't angry, they were still friends. But something felt really wrong with the situation, and it upset him more than he could understand.

He knew that he couldn't face Doug, so he'd stopped going to the weekly card games. He'd hardly spoken two words to Doug since the incident, a situation which was made easier by the fact that Doug wasn't going out of his way to talk to Jack, either.

So he was really quite startled when, about a week and a half later, Doug called.

"Jack?" The voice on the phone was quavering and unsure; Jack barely recognized it.

"Doug? Doug, is that you?"

"I'm sorry," said Doug, his voice rough with emotion and difficult to understand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be calling you. I know. But... But I... I broke up with Tom and I... I can't, Jack, I can't. No one else knows. You're the only one. There's no one- I _can't_- I know I have no right to call you, after how I've acted, but-"

"It's okay," said Jack, cutting him off. "I understand. Sit tight. I'll be right over."

He reached Doug's building in record time and practically flew out of the car. He pressed the button for Doug's apartment and the buzzer sounded immediately, letting him in.

Doug met Jack at the door when he arrived. He was already drunk.

Jack threw his jacket over a bench in the entryway and led Doug into the living room, sitting down with him on the couch where their previous fateful encounter had begun. Doug was visibly upset; it looked as though he'd been crying, though right now it seemed more like he was hyperventilating than anything else.

Jack placed his hands on Doug's shoulders. "Doug, breathe," he said soothingly. "It's okay. It's okay. Just calm down. Take deep breaths."

Doug did as he was told, inhaling with deep, shuddering gasp. There was a beer bottle in his hand, and Jack noticed nearly a dozen others on the coffee table. He shook his head before turning his attention back to Doug.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked.

Doug nodded, his head lowered. He leaned forward a few inches until the top of his head rested lightly against Jack's chest. Telling himself sternly that it was for comfort purposes only - ONLY, Jack lifted his hands to cradle either side of Doug's head.

"He met someone else," said Doug, his speech soft and slightly slurred. "'R, well, not _met_, I guess. Re-met. 'R something. I dunno. Some childhood friend or something like that. Makes sense, I guess. I mean, he's closer to Tom's age, an' everything." Doug paused and sighed. "I think I lost to a Dawson."

Jack winced. "Ouch. Well, there's no winning against a Dawson. I'm so sorry, Doug."

Doug nodded again and said nothing for a moment, then suddenly burst out, "But what about me, huh? Why not me? Am I just so easy to just- just- throw away! I'm sure I'm jus' as good as- as- what's-his-name."

Jack smiled slightly and ran one of his hands through Doug's hair. "I'm sure you are," he said.

Doug leaned forward more, turning his body a bit to the side, until he was practically curled up against Jack's chest. It was only natural for Jack to sling an arm around his waist. Doug was nodding a bit more vehemently now. "'S not fair," he said matter-of-factly. "'S just not fair."

"Doug," said Jack, absently stroking Doug's hair with one hand, "you are a wonderful person. Anyone would be lucky to have you, okay? Don't trouble yourself too much about some whiny little kid. You'll find someone else. Don't worry."

He looked down at Doug to find that the sheriff was staring at him. Unaccountably, Jack felt his face grow warm.

A second later, Doug reached up and drew Jack's head down for a kiss.

For one guilty second, Jack allowed it, savoring the sensation. Even drunk, Doug was a remarkably adept kisser. But then, regretfully, Jack pulled away.

"No Doug," he said firmly. "This isn't going to happen again. You're my friend, and you're drunk. You think you want this now, but you don't really. If I let you do this, you'll regret it tomorrow. It's late anyway, you should really be getting to bed." Gently, he disentangled himself from Doug's embrace.

"But..." said Doug pitifully, "Please? I don't- I don't wanna be alone."

Jack sighed. "Look, how about I sleep on your couch tonight, huh? That way I'll be here if you need me."

Doug nodded and Jack led him wordlessly into the bedroom, where he helped Doug change and get into bed. "There," said Jack softly once Doug was snugly under the blankets. He kissed him softly on the forehead. "Goodnight," he said, and flipped off the light.

Grabbing a blanket from the hall closet, he went to sleep on the couch.

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	6. Chapter 6: Reconciliations

Revelations  
Chapter 6  
Reconciliations

"Muh," said Doug the next morning, by way of greeting, as he slouched into the living room with a blanket around his shoulders and a grimace on his face.

Jack smiled and pressed a cup of fresh coffee and two aspirin tablets into his hands. "Take these," he said, "you'll feel better."

"Mungyuh," said Doug, which Jack decided to assume was thanks. Doug flopped down on the couch, popped the pills into his mouth, and took a generous swallow of coffee. Then he took a deep, fortifying breath and shook his head as though trying to shake water out of his hair. He closed his eyes and leaned back.

Jack sat across from him in the armchair, nursing his own cup of coffee. "Bad hangover?" he asked dryly.

"I don't know how drunks do this every day," said Doug.

Jack shrugged. "Practice."

Doug opened one eye and peered at him skeptically for a moment. Then he leaned slowly forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and placed his cup on the coffee table. "Look, Jack," he started, "about last night. I'm sorry-"

Jack held up a hand. "No apologies necessary. I know what you're going through. You were lost, you felt hurt and rejected. You were seeking comfort. Validation. I seemed like the best option. Trust me, I've done much worse."

"You're not angry?" asked Doug. "I mean, even after I called you like that after I've been such an ass lately..."

Jack smiled. "It's been tense. Neither of us have been really normal. I'm not exactly without blame either here. Look, can we just put all of this behind us? I mean, I miss the weekly card games. I miss having you around. You're a great friend, Doug. I don't want us to keep avoiding each other forever."

"You're right," Doug agreed, picking up his coffee cup and taking another sip. "We should just get over it, right?"

"Exactly." Jack nodded. "Sometimes you really need a friend who understands that you can lean on when you need to. Although, I have to say, after last night... Look, I don't want to be preachy or anything, and I'm sure you don't really need my advice, but I think you'd be a lot happier if-"

"Jack," Doug interrupted, "if you're going to say that I should come out, then save your breath. I'm not ready. I just don't want the world watching me like that. I don't like the idea of people knowing my business."

"It's not like you have to come out to the world," Jack persisted. "Maybe just tell Pacey or something. You know he'd be understanding, and he wouldn't judge you. Then at least you'd have someone else to talk to about things with. Family, even. You wouldn't have to be alone with your secret. I know what it's like Doug, and the more people you can talk to who support you, the easier it is. Besides, what if you need someone to take care of you like you did yesterday and I'm not around?"

Doug sighed, and was thoughtfully silent for a moment. "I suppose you're right," he said eventually. "I mean, I guess it would make things easier. I... I'll try. Why not, right? I mean, if nothing else, at least he'll get a good laugh."

"He'll understand," Jack assured him, surprised at the conviction in his own voice. "You know he will. It's Pacey, after all."

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	7. Chapter 7: Hiding the Truth

Revelations  
Chapter 7  
Hiding the Truth

Now, Pacey was certain he was going crazy.

He had just worked out when would be the right time and place to confront Doug about his apparent problem with Jack, when suddenly things went back to normal.

Well, not exactly normal.

On Wednesday evening, the two of them had just shown up for the card game as though nothing was wrong, looking for all the world like there had never been any sort of problem between them and they couldn't be better friends. And they started hanging out together even more often than they had in the past - it truly seemed as though everything was back to normal.

And yet, something was different. There were these glances they shared, when they thought Pacey wasn't looking. Hidden looks that spoke of something beneath the surface. And other looks too, less conspiratorial but just as secretive, when each of them thought the other wasn't looking. They were acting like little kids, and Pacey was beginning to worry that he might develop a nervous tic from the aggravation of dealing with them.

He knew he was going to have to confront one of them and finally, after a few days of watching and waiting, he found his chance.

The three of them were eating at the Ice House (well, Jack and Doug were eating; Pacey was snatching bites intermittently between checking on things), when Doug got up to go to the bathroom. Excusing himself to go look at something in the kitchen, Pacey followed him covertly.

He waited a few moments outside the doors for Doug to finish his business, then slipped in. His brother was standing at the sink, washing his hands and looked up when Pacey entered.

"Alright buster," said Pacey, "spill it. What the Hell's going on?"

Doug raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You and Jack!" Pacey practically exploded. "I know there's something going on there! You'd better come clean with it. I'm about to go out of my skull here."

Doug laughed at him. The jerk actually _laughed_! "Sorry little brother, but I'm afraid I really have no idea what you're talking about."

Pacey felt a little deflated. Maybe he was imagining things? But he couldn't be, could he? He was so sure that there was something...

For some reason, he suddenly recalled the words that Jack had spoken to him several days previously.

_Just because he doesn't seem depressed doesn't mean he isn't. Doug is amazingly good at hiding things._

Pacey frowned and peered closer at Doug. "Are you _sure_ there's nothing you want to tell me? Nothing at all you want to get off your chest? Seriously man, you know you can tell me anything. Anything at all."

Doug looked at him, straight in the eyes, and said calmly, without blinking, "Nope, Pacey. Sorry. There's nothing I particularly feel I need to tell you."

And then he walked past Pacey and out the door. Pacey was impressed; Doug hadn't flinched at all. But he was beginning to smell a rat. Something was up, and he had a bit of an inkling as to what that might be.

But until either Jack or Doug would talk about it, all he could do was wait.

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	8. Chapter 8: A Fine Night for Seduction

Revelations  
Chapter 8  
A Fine Night for Seduction

Something was definitely different now. Jack could feel it all the time recently, whenever he was around Doug, especially if they were alone together. He could feel it, but was doing his best not to think about it, in case it might make him inclined to do something about it. But he could definitely feel it.

The constant sidelong looks Doug was giving him, and the intensity that sparked when their eyes met, made him believe that Doug was feeling it too. It definitely wasn't coincidence that they were spending more and more time together.

Jack had made a half-hearted effort at convincing himself that it was simply because he knew Doug's secret, and the feeling of commiseration between them was what sparked this unusual magnetism that had sprung up. But that was a long-shot and he knew it. Plus, since the forming of that little theory, Jack was pretty sure that Doug had told Pacey about himself anyway, judging by the knowing looks that Pacey had been throwing them, and it didn't change a thing.

Pacey. Before, Pacey had been the glue that held their relationship together. Sure, they had occasionally done things on their own if Pacey was busy, but it was always less stressful when Pacey was there, easier for them all to talk.

But now it seemed that they were finding more and more excuses to ditch Pacey, to spend time on their own, just the two of them together. And Jack couldn't pretend that he wasn't pleased with the development. This new energy between them always made their conversations much livelier, and there were times during their outings when it bordered on flirting.

So it may or may not have been completely innocent when Doug invited Jack out to the movies one Friday evening, and it may or may not have been coincidence that their knees brushed ever-so-slightly throughout the entire show. And the amused glances that kept darting between them could have been regarding the subject of the film.

But it was a bit much to be entirely platonic.

Jack stepped out of the movie theater with Doug, the crisp late autumn air hitting his face and making him gasp sharply. It was cold enough now that his light jacket was beginning to feel insufficient; soon it would be time to break out the winter clothing.

He smiled over at Doug, who was having the same reaction to the bracing cold after exiting the warm lobby of the theater. Technically, since the movie was over, now would be the time they would typically part ways. But he was loathe to end the evening like this; he felt as though he had not had enough of Doug's company.

A look at Doug told him that his friend was feeling the same way. He sought an excuse to prolong their time together. "Feel like coming over for a nightcap?" he asked. His pulse raced slightly. It was an innocent invitation, as far as it went. Perfectly innocent. They were both adults, it was a cool night, a nightcap was entirely reasonable.

"Sounds great," said Doug enthusiastically. "Let's go."

They had taken Doug's car to the theater, so Doug drove them over to Jack's house by the beach. It was a nice place; Jack had looked for the best in order to ease his transition from New York. He opened the sliding glass door to the deck overlooking the beach and took another deep, cool breath.

"I know it's a little cold out," he said, "but how about drinking on the porch? The moon'll be rising in a bit. It should be a good view."

Doug nodded, so Jack poured them both a glass of brandy and they stepped out onto the porch, sitting at the bench of a wooden picnic table and looking out over the dark night ocean.

They were about to take a sip when Doug hesitated.

"If..." He sounded slightly nervous, hesitant. "If I drink this, then I probably shouldn't drive home tonight. It wouldn't be safe."

Jack smiled behind his glass. Perfectly innocent. "Don't worry about it," he said. He raised his glass to Doug. "Cheers."

Doug raised his in turn, and they drank. It was quite good brandy, actually. Jack had thankfully managed to turn his alcoholic tendencies towards quality rather than quantity, and was in possession of a number of rather fine specimens of various alcohols. It felt good, to be sharing such good brandy with a good friend.

Doug made an appreciative sound as he drank. They sat in companionable silence for a long time, listening to the lapping of the black water on the pale sand, watching the jagged reflections of moonlight ripple in the tide, and sipping at their brandies.

"It really is beautiful," murmured Doug.

Jack shot a glance over at him. "Some nights the view is better than others," he said innocently.

Doug smiled at him. Jack felt it right there, right then, at that particular moment, but it didn't happen then. Perhaps out of respect for the quality of the brandy, Doug waited until they were both done with their drinks and had set the empty glasses down on the picnic table.

It wasn't until they were both finished that he gave in to the inevitable, the moment that had been waiting patiently since Doug invited Jack out that afternoon. It wasn't until that precise time that he leaned over and kissed Jack sweetly.

It felt as though the entire evening had been leading up to that point. Indeed, it felt as though the entire past few days, past few weeks had been merely a set up for this moment. Jack felt as though he had known all along, as though everything before was merely a pretense. It seemed so inevitable, such a given fact that Doug should be kissing him now, that there was no need to fight it, no reason to question it.

It was all inevitable, even as they moved back into the house, even as they struggled feverishly out of their clothes and into the bedroom, and it was none of it innocent, none of it at all, and it never had been.

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	9. Chapter 9: Another Morning After

Revelations  
Chapter 9  
Another Morning After

Jack woke up slowly the next morning and stretched leisurely. He felt good. _Very_ good, in fact. The reason for this was most likely the warm body sprawled on the bed next to him. Jack rolled on his side and pressed himself against Doug's side, relishing the feeling of warm skin-on-skin contact. This, he thought, was definitely a good way to wake up.

"Mmm," said Doug vaguely, then cracked open one eye and looked over at Jack. He smiled, closing the eye again and lifting one arm to slide it around Jack and pull him closer. "Morning," he mumbled.

Feeling slightly mischievous and more content than anything else, Jack extended one hand and began to doodle random designs with his fingertips on Doug's chest. "You were _amazing_ last night," he said. Doug had been much better and much more experienced than he had expected. "I don't think I'm going to be able to sit properly for a week."

Doug opened his eyes and grinned, then leaned down to give Jack a swift peck on the lips. "You weren't half bad yourself," he said.

Jack couldn't remember feeling better. Most of this he put down to the fact that he had desperately needed to get laid. But there was more to it than that. It felt good to have Doug here next to him. It felt good that it was _him_ particularly. Jack liked the thought that he would see Doug again, that this was not a one-night engagement, that they had a life beyond this bed as friends. It felt somehow much more secure.

Jack yawned and sat up. He was loathe to leave the bed, but his stomach was beginning to growl at him. He would have to get up and make breakfast, and maybe-

But his thoughts were interrupted by Doug, who grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked smugly, pinning Jack to the bed and rolling over on top of him.

Jack tried not to grin, and failed. "I was going to see about breakfast. I take it you had other plans?"

"Maybe," murmured Doug playfully.

Jack reached up and cupped Doug's face in his hands, giving him another light kiss. "I'm glad you decided to stay for that nightcap."

"Me too."

Jack chuckled. "Pacey's gonna flip when I tell him about this."

Suddenly, Doug drew back. "You can't!" he said, sounding alarmed. "You said you wouldn't tell anyone."

Jack sat up, slightly bewildered. "I know, but I thought... didn't you tell him?"

"No," said Doug. There was a pause. "And I'm not going to."

Jack felt suddenly cold. "What?"

Doug moved over a little until he was sitting near the edge of the bed, and stared at the wall. "I'm not coming out, Jack. I told you this already. Just because we had sex, doesn't mean I'm going to let you pressure me into it."

"But... but... You said..." Jack was at a loss. "I thought you said you were going to tell Pacey?"

"I thought about it," said Doug, his voice still very calm and a little stony. "And I decided not to. Pacey doesn't need to know."

"You're afraid to tell him, you mean," Jack spat.

Doug looked over at him, frowning. "Jack, you know my feelings on this. Why are you so surprised?"

"I don't know." Jack could feel the venom dripping into his veins, staining his voice and poisoning his heart. "I guess I thought that maybe you were prepared to make an effort."

"I just don't think that it's worth it, Jack."

And that was it. Jack felt something clench painfully inside him. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. "I see," he said finally, his vision beginning to mist over with red.

"Jack," Doug started, but Jack cut him off.

"No, that's okay. I get it. What you're saying is, you don't think I'm worth the trouble of being honest. Thanks Doug."

"That's not what I said, Jack-" Doug protested, but once again Jack interrupted.

"But it's what you meant. You know what, if I'm so fucking worthless, then you can just get the hell out of my house."

Doug winced at Jack's vulgarity, but stood and got dressed in stiff silence. He didn't look back as he walked out the door.

Jack felt sick. He couldn't even make himself move until he heard the crunch of Doug's tires leaving his driveway. Then he forced himself out of bed and stumbled over to the doorway, staring out into the living room without seeing anything. He couldn't seem to form any coherent thoughts.

Finally, his roving eyes looked through the glass door and rested on the two empty glasses out on the picnic table, their edges rimmed with frost. They stood there, standing tall and close together. The idea of them meant so much to Jack, the concept that they stood for, the memory of the two of them, sharing an evening drink.

Jack sank to his knees and let out a moan. He had been so sure. It had been so very perfect.

How could it have all shattered so quickly?

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	10. Chapter 10: Someone to Talk to

Revelations  
Chapter 10  
Someone to Talk to 

**----------------------------  
Notes: Holy crap, I updated! o.O I know, weird, right? I do plan on finishing this eventually, although it may take a while depending on how much time I have to write and how much inspiration I have on the plot. In the meantime though, look: I made Doug less hateable! Well, at least, I hope I did...  
---------------------------- **

Pacey was really worried about Jack. He had barely seen the guy for four days, and now he was sitting at one of the tables in the back of the restaurant, long after most of the lunch rush patrons had cleared out, picking morosely at his food. Every once in a while he would heave a heavy sigh, like the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders. Pacey had tried to talk to him, but Jack never gave more than one-word answers, or a non-verbal sound if he could get away with it. Finally, deciding to let him mope for the time being, Pacey had retreated to tending the bar in order to think about what he should do with the situation.

The bell on the door jingled, and Pacey looked up to see his brother enter, looking a bit more tired than usual. He looked disinterestedly around the room, then froze when his eyes landed on Jack.

Seeming to sense his scrutiny, Jack lifted his head, and for a second their gazes locked.

Having turned, Doug's back was to Pacey, so he couldn't see his brother's expression. But he watched Jack's face as it went from depression to a quick flash of horror, then hardened into a stony mask. Jack looked colder than Pacey had ever seen him. Without a word Jack stood, still staring at Doug, and slipped on his jacket. He took a few steps forward, towards Doug, then looked over Doug's shoulder and called out to Pacey.

"Hey Pace, put lunch on my tab."

And then he turned and quickly slipped out the door, leaving his meal practically un-eaten. Pacey's eyes widened at the confrontation, though he seemed to be the only one who noticed how strange it was. There weren't really many people around anyway, and he guessed that if you didn't know them, it might seem like just a coincidence that Jack had left as Doug came in. But if you did know them...

Doug trudged over to the bar, his head down, and collapsed onto a stool with a groan, burying his head in his arms on the bar. As he did so, the last couple in the room - the very tail end of the lunch crowd - got up and left, waving over to Pacey as they did. Pacey waved back, then looked down at his depressed brother.

"Jeeze Dougie," he said in a joking voice, trying to lighten the mood, "what did you do to Jack?"

"I had sex with him and then told him he wasn't worth coming out for."

Doug was muttering, and his voice was muffled even further by his arms, but Pacey was sure he had heard him right. He was startled, not by what Doug had said, but by the fact that he had said it out loud. Maybe he hadn't meant to. Maybe it had just slipped out. Pacey considered what he had said.

"Why the hell would you do something like that?" he said, a bit pissed at his brother, now that he thought about it. "You know Jack doesn't deal well with rejection. And he hasn't had a lover, let alone a steady boyfriend, in over a year! You insensitive prick."

Doug looked up, glancing around the room worriedly after Pacey had spoken so loudly, and apparently surprised to find it empty. Then he looked back at Pacey. "You're not surprised?" he asked suspiciously.

Pacey rolled his eyes. "Hello? This is me you're talking to here, remember? Haven't I been saying this since high school?"

Doug frowned. "Well, yeah, but... I never thought you actually meant it."

Pacey looked up to the ceiling. Heaven help them all. "Dougie," he said, "and I say this with all due respect: Duh. Geeze, even if I hadn't known, it's not like the last couple of weeks wouldn't have tipped me off. I mean, first you two can't stand to look at each other, then you're all cute and shy and sneaking looks at each other like a couple of middle-schoolers, now suddenly you're back at each other's throats? Either you two have been sleeping together, or you've managed to have a lifetime's worth of relationship stages in about a month. Give me some credit for not being oblivious."

Doug suddenly looked really scared. "You don't think anyone else noticed, do you?" he asked anxiously.

Pacey was a bit taken aback by just how scared Doug seemed. "I don't think anyone else knows you two well enough, frankly. I mean, I see you two all the time, but you're pretty much a loner, and Jack isn't really close to a lot of people in Capeside. So I don't think anyone else knows you guys well enough to know when you're acting different."

Doug breathed a sigh of relief, which then turned into a sigh very similar to the ones Jack had been indulging in over lunch. He put his head back on his arms, but didn't turn his face into them this time. "What am I going to do?" he asked. "You saw him. He hates me."

Pacey shrugged. "What do any of us do? You talk to him, and try to make it better. I mean, if you're not ready to come out, then you're not ready to come out. But the two of you are still friends, right? I mean, you were getting along well enough before when you weren't having sex. It's not like you two don't get along with each other as people. He's just angry right now. Let him get over it, and apologize."

Doug frowned up at him. "That sounds totally unlike you. That's not what you would do at all. Knowing you, you'd make some ridiculous grand gesture that would be stupid but adorable, and then flash those wounded puppy eyes like you always do."

Pacey smiled, deciding to take that as a compliment. "Ah, but let's remember how well that's worked for me in the past," he said. "As evidenced by the fact that I am completely girlfriend-less at the moment."

"I thought that soccer mom...?"

Pacey shook his head. "Dumped me. Guess the 'seeing someone on the sly' thing wasn't working out for her. And grand gestures are a little hard to do and still be stealthy about it. See?" He grinned. "We have something in common."

"It's not like I'm sneaking around," Doug protested.

"You don't want people to know that the two of you are sleeping together, right?" said Pacey. "Same thing, basically."

"_Were_ sleeping together," Doug corrected with another sigh.

Pacey slapped him comfortingly on the back. "Cheer up Bro," he said. "It'll get better."

Doug hid his face in his arms again and didn't respond.

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